Amen
by Mason'sLittleArmy
Summary: He was comatose. As close to death as he's ever been. And no one knew why.
1. Chapter 1

_My story ends with a champagne supernova. _

_There were fireworks _everywhere._ The entire skyline was lit up with red, orange and pink. It glittered and fizzed and expanded from the sun to the stars. Even the moon participated in the festivities, letting the shadows dance off of it, creating a colorful echo. _

_I thought it was pretty cool. _

_My dad didn't._

_I didn't notice his presence until he smacked the elixir from my hands. He tackled me to the ground, but my numbed body hardly noticed. The screaming in my ear was all a blur too. My mouth just quivered, blood-shot eyes watering. Clenching them shut, I decided to scream back at him, having no idea what I was saying. My hands reached out for the spilt elixir, my dream potion. His hands clasped mine, bringing them back to our chests. I felt his chest heaving, shaking with sobs, his voice continuing on in my ears. I mumbled right back at him, eyes rolling back._

_I was so tired, my head hurt so badly. I needed to sleep. _

XXXXXXXXX

His story starts with a crime of passion.

A kiss. A blackout. A rescue. His limp body was carried out by his family, loaded into the back of an armed vehicle. His lover sat with him, his head on her lap. She stayed deathly quiet, gazing at his unchanging, expressionless face, praying for his safety.

His father and brother don't dare to look at him, even as he's laid on a stretcher, carried through the city and into the med ward. There they performed every test imaginable, but came up with no explanations.

He was comatose. As close to death as he's ever been. And no one knew why.

Except for him.

He felt the spider in his throat, squirming and clawing it's way up to his eye. He felt it settle amongst his retinas, making his eyes twitch beneath the lid. His jaw was locked or he would have screamed. It hurt so badly.

_There's nothing physically wrong with him. _

Yes there was.

_It's best if we just let him rest. Okay?_

Don't leave him.

It was too dark. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel anything except for the pain... all he could do was listen to their muffled voices. That was painful too, as he knew they were leaving him to die. Why would they leave? How could they? They didn't know what he was going through. He could be awake for all they knew, just paralyzed and afraid. He may very well be. He wasn't sure if he was asleep or conscious.

A little voice in his head told him to let go. It would be easier that way. Sink into the abyss.

He knew not to listen, he needed to fight, try to wake up. Try to scream at them as they left. But the voice was so soft, so sweet...

It reminded him a lot of Karen.

XXXXXXXXX

It had been three weeks since the incident at the Espheni tower.

Hal was still unconscious, lying deathly still and pale on the hospital cot. It hurt Tom's heart, his very soul, that as a father he was unable to do anything to save his boy.

Tom sat next to him, holding his hand. He watched each shallow rise of his son's chest, took in every sign of life. The occasional motion of eye movement beneath his lids, the twitch of a finger, the small sighs of breath. The beautiful, _beautiful _feel of his heartbeat.

Tom almost didn't notice as Anne walked in. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"How's he doing?" Her voice was soft.

He looked up briefly, before returning his eyes to Hal. "The same."

Anne nodded, moving over to check his breathing. Tom sighed shakily, stroking Hal's hand with his thumb.

He seemed so small, so fragile, with pale skin and shadowy bags under his eyes. The nasal cannula pushed oxygen into his nose, assisting his light breathing, the IV drip gave him the nutrients he needed. All of his independence, his personality, all gone under the shadow of this bizarre coma.

The doctors still had no explanation But he knew it had something to do with-

No. He couldn't think about that.

The aliens weren't going to take another son from him. He wouldn't allow it.

Tom still had difficulty coping with the idea that he had failed his middle child, Ben, there was not way he would do the same with his eldest. They _would _figure this out, Hal _would_ wake up. There was just no other option.

Anne gave Tom a slight smile. "Good news. His breathing has improved, as well as his irregular heartbeat."

He nodded, taking any relief he could get. "Good. That's good."

Anne sat down beside him, holding his other hand. "It is."

She took a deep breath, leaning her head against his shoulders. Her soft hair draped against him. "He's going to be okay. There's no brain damage..."

Tom nodded again. "I know. He'll be just fine."

XXXXXXXXX

Hal screamed.

It was agonizing. His veins twisted and pushed the black blood throughout his body, causing him to writhe and seize. Coughing up blood, the boy begged and begged his father to kill him, as Tom worked hard to hold him down. Anne's team of doctors were all working on him at once, injecting him with various medicines. Anne fought back the tears in her eyes as she started to force a tube down his throat.

Hal gagged against the tube, his desperate eyes searching for his father's. Tom caught his gaze, mirroring his expression, barely recognizing the boy lying before him.

His whole face was marred with blackish veins, his skin ghostly white in contrast. His pupils were blown so that the beautiful hazel irises were almost invisible.

Tom tried his best to ignore his sons screams as he closed his eyes, pressing his full weight on to him to stop him moving. The doctors shouts and orders were all a blur, his thoughts only on the year before. The year before the aliens had come, when he had taken his sons and wife to Six Flags.

Back when none of this could have happened.

Anne pushed Tom out of the way as Hal finally slipped into unconsciousness. She ripped his shirt down the middle, staring at the black veins as they seemed to fade. Quickly, she grabbed a syringe from her assistant, flicked it to get out the air, and drew out a sample from his blood.

The black mass inside the glass hissed and threw itself against it's container. Anne looked on in horror.

Tom looked at the syringe for only a few seconds before sinking to his knees beside his sons bed. Folding his hands, he bent his head in prayer.

_Almighty and Eternal God, You are the everlasting health of those who believe in You._

_Hear us for Your sick servant, my son, for whom we implore the aid of Your tender mercy, that being restored to bodily health, he may give thanks to You in Your Church, Through __Christ our Lord. _

XXXXXXXXX


	2. Chapter 2

XXXXXXXXX

_Take me to Church,_

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies._

_I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife._

_Offer me that deathless death good god,_

_let me give you my life._

XXXXXXXXX

He couldn't speak.

It was as if his throat was being choked, his lungs drowning in fire. The screaming in his ears was relentless, words of no meaning shutting out any other noise. He saw his family before him, people coming and going, occasionally feeling the sharp prick of a needle, but none of it made any sense.

Everything around him swarmed with confusion. He tried and tried to tear the binds from around his wrists, to rip out the venom flooding his veins, but he couldn't break free. He felt weak, powerless. Anyone could do anything to him.

Hal was soaked in sweat, his feverish eyes seeking contact with the shapes in the room. He tried to decipher if they were enemies. If they were to be feared. Even those he felt like he knew, he had to be cautious.

_Don't make eye contact._

Immediately he shut his eyes. Finally, a voice he could understand. It was soft, feminine. Trustworthy.

_Focus on me. _

A song started playing in his head, slow and sweet. It was beautiful, and a distraction from the pain. He relaxed his eyelids, then his whole body. Even the venom seemed to quiet down. A half smile appeared on his face, his breath releasing in a sigh.

The song continued on until he fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXX

When he awoke, everything was black.

Not a speck of light, no phosphenes, nothing. And everything was heated, his veins throbbing and sweat soaking the sheet laid on top of him. He opened his mouth, letting out a strangled cry for help.

The voice in his head tried to soothe him.

_Hal. It's okay. It's the process. _

"_Process...?"_

_Yes. _

Hal tried to breathe, ignoring the new hands and voices coming from the outside.

"_What process?"_

_Don't worry. It's all under control._

He felt the hands go underneath him, picking him up as gently as possible. He grunted in pain as the black substance surged through his legs. He was shaking so badly, his teeth were clanging together.

"D-Dad." he whispered this hoarsely, more as a statement then a question.

A muffled voice answered. "I'm right here, son."

"Dad." he repeated.

A kiss was pressed against his forehead. "Right here." Hal was set down on the floor, he thought maybe by the wall, on some kind of sleeping bag. A wet washcloth washed off his face and neck.

_Why is he touching you?_

Hal started to struggle.

"Shhhh." His father hushed him, gently holding him down. "It's okay."

He wanted to listen to him, but the voice was making him anxious. What was his Dad doing?

"Dad..." W-Where are we? Where are we?" Hal almost yelled, starting to panic. He twisted away from his fathers grasp, chest tight with pain, fever raging.

"Hal!" His father decided against grabbing him, instead lying down beside him, talking into his ear. "We're in the hospital. You're sick. Everything looks scary right now, but it isn't." Tom drew in a shaky breath. "I promise... you're safe."

_He has no right to promise that to you._

"Y-you... have no right. To promise. No right." Hal's teeth chattered. He was cold now. Freezing. "It's cold. It's cold."

A blanket was immediately brought down from the cot and wrapped around him, even as he hissed in pain. "Better?"

"No. It still fucking h-hurts." Hal tried to take a deep breath, ignoring the burning in his lungs. "I can't see."

Tom froze, hand holding the washcloth above the bowl. "You can't see?"

Hal didn't answer, eyes rolling back from exhaustion. His pupils were blown and glazed.

Tom shook him, not bothering to be gentle. "Hal! Wake up!"

Hal remained unresponsive, so Tom turned his head and shouted, "Anne! I need help!"

A nurse motioned to Dr. Glass to enter the room, and she immediately rushed in. "Tom?" She saw Hal on the floor and bent down beside him, listening to Tom's explanation. She checked his eyes and shined a light into them, to detect any kind of change. Not finding anything different from before, she just looked at Tom.

"We'll run more tests." She ran her fingers through her hair, blinking back tears. "We'll figure it out. Let's get him into a stretcher.

XXXXXXXXX

All tests came back inconclusive. Tom was crying into his hands.

Dan Weaver, Anne, even Ben had tried to offer him support. He wasn't the one who needed it. That was Hal. His sick, alien infested, blinded son. He cried for Hal, he cried for Ben and Matt, he cried for the entire world. God knows how many parents were grieving over their lost children, ripped from by the sick bastards from outer space.

The only question running through his head was why.

Why earth?

Why his family?

Why his eldest son?

His mother had always told him the world wasn't fair. When he asked why his father drank, why he hit him, why his sister had died before she was even born, that was always the answer.

Life isn't fair, son.

Sometimes that's the way the world works.

He was tired of it. He wanted so desperately for the world to be fair, if not for him, then for his precious children. Little Matt, once so full of happiness, Ben, so smart, brilliant at mathematics. And Hal. Rebecca's pride and joy.

But never his. Not until it was too late.

He's finally realized his son's worth. Just in time to watch him die.

XXXXXXXXX

_This time Hal knew he was dreaming. _

_First, he was in the woods. Second, there was no pain._

"_Hello, Hal." Karen smiled, stepping out from the trees. _

"_What are you doing to me?" Hal kept calm, eyes set firmly on her. "Where are we?"_

"_We're in your head, silly." She drew closer, her icy breath against his lips. "Your beautiful mind." Her electric blue eyes pierced his own, like daggers into his flesh. He knew she could touch his soul if she tried. He kneeled to the ground, ducking his head._

"_Please stop. Stop this." He clenched his eyes shut. "I can't take it."_

_Karen smiled sadly, kneeling in front of him. Her gentle hand rested under his chin for a moment, before bringing his eyes up to hers. "Hal. You're strong. You can."_

_Hal clenched his teeth. "I don't want this. This... whatever your doing."_

"_Yes you do," she whispered into his ear, kissing his lobe lightly. "You know you do." _

_Hal shook his head._

"_Shhh, don't fight it." Her lips grazed his, speaking directly into his mouth. "Let it happen."_

_She sealed his doom with a passionate kiss, tongue traveling inside him, lips locked._

_Hal couldn't think, couldn't breathe, as he allowed her to peal off his jacket. Half of him wanted to fight, half of him... didn't care. Or couldn't. _

_He whispered for her to stop, but she hushed him again, taking off her shirt. "Relax." _

_So he obeyed. _

_XXXXXXXXX_


End file.
